


truth hurts (not as much as losing you)

by capmackie



Series: sambucky week ‘19 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Sambucky Week '19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capmackie/pseuds/capmackie
Summary: FRIDAY must sense the concern because she continues the evaluation, assuring Bucky that whatever he was hit with won’t hurt him but —“It’s some kind of truth serum.”written for day vi of sambucky week 19 — touch / mission gone wrong / avengers (if you squint)





	truth hurts (not as much as losing you)

They aren’t even fully on the battlefield yet before the mad scientist is firing away.

It’s AIM this time, Bucky briefly remembers, ducking for cover as some kind of _goo_ whizzes past his head. But who cares — it’ll always be someone; some secret organization, some alien, someone Tony Stark wronged — the point is there will always be a fight.

To be honest, Bucky’s really fucking over it.

But before he gets to lament the alien scientist with a gold gun, shooting what looks like _jello_ — seriously, what even is his life right now? — he sees Steve get hit right in the mouth with it.

Next, Wanda.

Springing into action, Bucky follows the scientist’s line of sight, eyeing her next target: Sam. In two seconds flat, he covers the entire base of the now leveled city, making it just in time to knock Sam out of the way, only to be hit with the substance instead.

And it ain’t jello.

The first thing Bucky notices is that whatever it is smells horrible. A putrid kind of smell, like rotting flesh. It’s sticky, gelatinous in texture, stretching when Bucky vigorously tries to pull it off his face, only for it to snap back into place.

The second thing Bucky notices is that he’s currently sprawled on top of a bewildered Sam, eyes wide in confusion, then amusement at whatever is currently muffling Bucky’s mouth.

“If only I would’ve known that was all it took to shut you up.”

Bucky really, _truly_ wishes he would’ve just let the goo hit Sam instead.

—

Being held in a containment chamber whilst being scrubbed within an inch of his life was the very last thing Bucky would’ve expected to happen to him today but alas. He honestly shouldn’t be as bothered, it’s not even top five weirdest things that have happened to him as an honorary Avenger.

The top spot belongs to Sam, who after months of being told by Bucky to ‘suck his dick’ as an insult, actually sucked his dick and _well_ —

(Spots two to five belong to Sam as well; the two of them quickly figuring out the incessant need to push each other’s buttons was only a cover for the mountain of sexual tension between them.)

But that was the _past_ and Sam has someone else he’s sweet on now. Someone normal and not an Avenger and not a super-solider with a lifetime worth of issues — three lifetimes actually.

And Bucky’s happy for him, happy that his friend can experience as much normalcy as someone in their shoes could possibly experience. And if there’s something, something clawing at the back of his throat, itching to come out, to say things like “he’s not right for you” or “he’ll never understand you” or “he has terrible style”, well that’s no one’s business but his own.

The sound of FRIDAY calling his name breaks Bucky out of his distraction. He’s experienced a myriad of emotions when it comes down to Sam, but jealousy is _new_. Jealously is unfamiliar, irritating, prickles at his skin whenever he focuses on Sam’s new guy for too long.

“I have good news Sergeant Barnes”, the AI starts, voice calming. “We’ve discovered what the strange substance you’ve encountered is.”

There’s a whirring sound as FRIDAY boots up an adjacent monitor, cleanly labeling the compounds of the goo and their respective side effects.

Most of the chemicals are indeed alien but the ones Bucky readily recognizes causes alarm.

FRIDAY must sense the concern because she continues the evaluation, assuring Bucky that whatever he was hit with won’t hurt him but —

“It’s some kind of truth serum.”

As comforting as holographic, artificial intelligence can be, FRIDAY once again reassures Bucky that he’ll be okay but confirms that he was indeed, doused with a short-acting truth serum of sorts.

The technicalities of the serum are lost on Bucky — he barely catches that the effects, if any, might kick in suddenly and then subside just as quickly.

No, he’s too busy rearranging his list, putting ‘getting hit with truth serum’ at number three, replacing the time he once rimmed Sam till the man cried.

—

Locking himself in his room is obviously the best and most adult option Bucky has in his arsenal.

He can’t trust his mouth now that the serum has started to affect him. His temperature is elevated, he feels light and giddy in a way one would never associate with the Winter Soldier. He’s been annoyingly honest — and well, yeah, but it kinda ruins the ‘quiet storm’ persona he’s adopted and ran with.

In the time it took to leave the lab and make it to his room, Bucky’s assured multiple Avengers that he didn’t actually hate them, very few believed it, but it was true. He told Steve he was an idiot — harsh, but also, true.

He even complimented Sam on his date night attire and — there was that jealously again. Unfamiliar and irritating and stretching him taut like a live wire’s running though him. But there’s something else there too, vibrating underneath his skin, it’s frequency so high, Bucky’s surprised the windows haven’t combusted yet. It’s right on the tip of his tongue, etching into his brain, begging to be acknowledged.

But Bucky doesn’t. He wishes Sam well on his _date_ and goes back to his room, locking it behind him.

—

It’s late when Bucky finally leaves his den.

He’s itching for some water, itching for some relief from both the effects of the serum — fever, restlessness, the need to be as soul-baringly honest as possible — and the dormant emotions regarding Sam.

And as if the universe is purposely fucking with him, he runs right into one Sam Wilson in the kitchen, opening a bottle of water and taking a long drink.

The visual of it all is overwhelming— Sam’s throat bared, the way his arms deliciously stretch the fabric of the navy polo, the way he smiles at Bucky — sticky and sweet, just like honey.

“How was your date?”

The words are out before Bucky’s mind even begins to process them. But it’s fine, Bucky truly, honestly wants to know how Sam’s evening was.

_Wants to know where he went_

_Wants to know if Sam enjoyed himself_

“Does new guy make you feel like I do?”

And by the way Sam's eyes go a bit wide, the way his arm stops in mid-air just as he goes to take another sip, turning to face Bucky full-on now, Bucky knows he asked that last question out loud.

But he can’t help himself now, it’s like the floodgates have been broken, he needs to know.

“Do you ever think about us?”

It’s a loaded question and Bucky really doesn’t mean to come on so strong, but apparently a lesser-known side effect of the serum is being as blunt as possible, exhibiting a brashness Bucky knows he’s never had before.

“Give me one night and you’ll never think about him again.”

And that, that truly gets a reaction out of Sam. Normally, so cool, so calm, Bucky can clearly see the effect his words are having on the man.

His pupils are blown back, the brown of the irises almost completely hidden. Sam isn’t smiling; there’s no humor to him now, no witty comeback, so smart-ass retort. And that does something to him.

Closing the distance between them, Bucky settles his hands on Sam’s hip — one flesh and one metal, and pulls the smaller man closer, flush to his chest.

Bending down to lick the shell of Sam’s ear, Bucky pulls back, whispering, “I can treat you better than him.”

Pushing even closer, the cabinet groaning in protest at the added weight, Bucky murmurs, “I can fuck you better than him.”

The kitchen is quiet, save for the sound of Sam sharply sucking in a breathe. But Sam’s rarely flustered for too long.

“How about you show me, old man?”

—

When Bucky awakes, tangled in Sam, he knows the truth serum is slowly ebbing away.

He doesn’t feel as warm, doesn’t feel as uneasy as he did last night, doesn’t remember much of the past 24 hours to be honest.

But he does remember cornering Sam, does remember the taste of Sam’s tongue in his mouth, the taste of cinnamon gum and cinnamon whiskey making his knees weak. He remembers landing in bed with Sam but he distinctly remembers feeling so light, so high in Sam’s embrace, that he’s sure he flew away at some point too.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Sam’s morning voice is beautiful like he is, deep and sensual. Bucky wants to hear that voice first thing in the morning for as many mornings as he’s allowed. And with the last bit of the truth serum still in his bloodstream, Bucky tells Sam exactly that.

He doesn’t stop there either.

“I want to watch the sun kiss your skin as you wake up and I want to follow suit.”

Rolling over so he’s leaning over Sam, one hand propping him up, Bucky continues. “I know I don’t want to do this with anyone else, this is it for me.”

—

When it’s all said and done, Bucky knows this moment of haunting truthfulness is a bit much — he and Sam only just gradually making the transition from enemies to lovers and for Bucky to spring something so heavy and so sudden —_ and oh god, what if Sam doesn’t feel the same way —_

No, when Bucky looks back at this moment, he won’t remember the blush that crept over him after the confession, won’t remember how the hand that hovered over Sam’s ribs, fingertips lightly brushing the other man’s skin, shook — he won’t even remember Sam’s morning breath.

The only thing he’ll remember from the day he and Sam made things official would be the way his _boyfriend_ smiled up at him, kissing him gently and then urgently, rolling him onto his back, gaining the upper hand.

“Man, I thought you’d never ask me out.”

**Author's Note:**

> just want to make this explicitly clear that sam is not in a relationship in this fic — thx!
> 
> @capmackie


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